In Her Eyes
by gublergirl96
Summary: Draco Malfoy shares how he felt about bullying Hermione Granger in his years at Hogwarts, and afterwards. One-shot, Dramione theme. Review for suggestions and if I should continue. :)


I never enjoyed making Granger cry.  
I still am a living being, with emotions and other useless attributes like that.  
I mean, sure, I bullied her on a daily basis with some of the most vicious, blood-seekingly cruel jokes. I also admit to taking out my anger from my life's problems on her, making some comments especially mean. But she never so much as bat an eyelash to them, after getting used to it in the beginning. She was always equipped with something to make my blood boil, whether it was a "ferret" remark, or something about my father being involved with Voldermort. (And yes, I also call him by his name. Can't fear a ghost, can you?)

It was almost a game we had created over the years. I almost looked forward to my classes with Granger, mostly in between classes when I could talk freely, and almost enjoyed being in her presence in general, whether I acknowledged that fact or not. It was a twisted game, my enjoyment originating from her discomfort, but to me it was nothing more than a game. Sometimes, if I said the something that wasn't so harsh, but more playful, I'd see a flash of something behind those eyes. That flash was something I could not name, but something I nonetheless craved. I'd only see it when there weren't many people around, which was very rare, seeing that was she quickly known as one of the Golden Trio, and attention followed her like flies. So most of those instences happened within the library, Granger's favorite place to be besides with her friends. I'd spy her with her head in a stack of books, I'd walk past her while muttering something rather loudly to her, and that's how it would start. The threats, the insults, the remarks, the banter. I knew she complained about me to her friends, about how I was so annoying or rude. And they'd laugh, joke about how we "flirted", or there was ever something with a more romantic feeling to it in the works, to which she denied to no end. But that didn't stop her from coming back to the library everyday, sitting in the same corner, head peeping above that pile of books every so often.  
But then everything changed.  
It was around the end of fifth year, in the middle of the night. Being the dashing Slytherin Prince I was, I obviously had no respect for the rule of curfew, and was roaming the halls freely as usual.  
You see, as horrible of a reputation Slytherins may be branded by, we are very social, lively creatures. When the lights go out in the castle, that is signal for us in the dungeons to party. And are those parties wild. Firewhiskey, music, and yes, we did partake in those muggle games of spin-the-bottle or 7 minutes in heaven. Well, most of us, anyways. And we never got in trouble, not with Snape being my uncle, and not to mention my father's influence on Hogwarts.  
I had just left the Slytherin common room, and was headed towards the kitchen area. I didn't really remember what I was supposed to do there, but that was the last thing on my mind at the moment. Something, or someone, was there, I was sure of it. I could hear the staggered breathing. I looked around in the dark of the hallway until I spotted a small figure almost completely hidden away.  
And there she was. Cornered behind the staircase, head in her lap, half covered by darkness. I could see her brown curls, despite the lack of sufficient light, and knew almost instantly it was Granger.  
If I had really paid attention that day, I would have never said anything to her. I would have pretended not to have seen her, and stumbled away. But why would I have cared whether or not Ms. Goody Two-Shoes had been fighting with the Weasel all day? Why should I have cared if this morning's owl broke her smile? I was in the middle of a party, had just been hit on by some of the hottest sixth years, and had a few sips of firewhiskey. My ego was through the roof! Plus, her scurrying away to the girl's bathroom all day caused less opportunity to pick on her, therefore I felt like I was making up for lost time. It wasn't until much later that I had actually remembered these details of the day, and put the pieces together until it made a little more sense.  
And to think, all I had said was one word. It was barely whispered, but I doubt it would have made a bigger impact if it was shouted.

"Filth."

She gasped slightly, realizing she was discovered, and immediately jumped up. But when she looked at me, when her brown eyes finally met my steel ones in the dark, they were filled with so much emotion I half expected her to explode. Most of the emotions I could have predicted to be there; anger, fury, annoyance, disgust. But, before those, in her eyes were emotions that I had never seen before.

Before the anger settled in, there was fear. I saw fear in those eyes, and I realized that no matter what happened before between us, she never feared me until now. But there it was, fear that I was going to harm her, that I was vile enough to physically hurt her. And that disturbed me.

I saw disappointment swimming in those orbs of brown long before disgust took it's place. Disappointment. I had seen that in the eyes of another, but that was only ever my father. No matter what anyone says, I never felt much compassion for that man, and I guess the feeling was mutual. At first it hurt, knowing I could never really make him happy or proud, but over the years I had grown used to it and learned to brush it off. But for that look to come from her...I had, and have, no words to describe how horrible it felt.

Mingling in with the disappointment was the appropriate sadness one could predict it were to associate with. Enough sadness to begin making her eyes well up with tears. Now, I'm sure that there were times that I probably had made her cry, but it probably was quietly in her bed, late at night. Never had she once shown me that my words had any other effect on her besides infuriating her. I don't remember a single time in which I had seen Granger shed a tear. Until then.

I just stood there, my previous joy dissipated, staring back at her. I just waited, praying that she would scream some horrible Death Eater comment, and we could just go back to normal. All I wanted was to hear her say "Malfoy" in the most irritated tone she could muster. All I wanted was a ferret comment, even just the word "ferret" word have been good.  
But she just stood there, tears now flowing freely, her cold, empty stare getting worse by the minute.  
For the first time in my life, the only thing I could think about was apologizing to her. And not just for then, but for all times. In that split second, I regretted every single remark or joke I had ever made about her.  
I almost opened my mouth to start that apology, when we heard the sound of doors opening and students laughing. I turned around to see who, but when I turned back, she was gone. I cursed under my breath, and quickly look around to see if I could see her walking. But she was gone. I cursed again, louder this time, then walked back to the Slytherin chambers. Turned out that most people were still awake, and partying hard, but why wouldn't they? The party didn't stop for him, and what had seemed like hours was only minutes outside.

"Hey," one fifth year called, "I thought you went to get more food?" I then suddenly remembered that I was, indeed, supposed to get food.  
"Um, couldn't get it. Dumbledork is in the pantry right now, probably raiding it of its lemon drops." I lied, to which the girl believed, then continued dancing.  
Pansy Parkinson, a fellow fifth year, and somewhat attractive, dark haired girl, quickly made her way to me, almost draping herself on me.

"Draky, how about we go dance, hmm?" She slurred, and I could smell the firewhiskey on her breath. I pushed her away, hoping she would get the message that I wasn't in the mood. It worked, much to her dismay, but she spotted Blaise Zabini at the punch bowl and nearly tackled him.

I ran down the hallway to my dorm. Thankfully, I spotted Goyle and Crabbe passed out on a couch. That means they won't be coming to the room anytime soon. Which was fantastic, because I knew they wouldn't be any help in my current situation. I locked the door behind me, in case anyone wander this way from the party. The same party I couldn't hear a sound from, thanks to a little silencing charm I had learned back in second year. I could tell the party was still in full swing, from the occassional flashing lights and thuds felt along the wall.

I couldn't tell whether it was minutes or hours later, but I finally fell asleep. I tossed and turned, but I finally fell asleep. I had nightmares about those eyes, so full of pain. It wasn't long before I woke up again, this time in a cold sweat.  
Why was this bothering me so much? Why should I care about making Ms. Goody Two-Shoes Mudblood cry?  
There were tons of times when I had called her filth, just because this time it made her cry, doesn't mean I'm supposed to feel bad, right?  
I started thinking about all the emotions that were on display, and realized I had missed one. One, that was rather the combination of them all. Heartbreak.

'That doesn't make any sense, why would Granger feel heartbroken from anything I've said? If anything, I was going beyond her expectations by not even saying Mudblood once. All I had said was one word! One word that I've probably said a thousand times! And who cares? It's true, and everybody knows it. Weasel boy probably even knows it, and that's probably why he won't go out with her, even though she's all for it. Merlin only knows why, I doubt I could think of a more disgusting union...'

I had let my active mind wander, from feeling guilty and apologetic to justifying my actions, boosting my previously-deflated ego, and perfecting jinxes to use on Weasel, even though I didn't fully understand the reason for my hate for him. Honestly, did you expect anything more from a Slytherin Prince?

After convincing myself that I wasn't the one in the wrong, I proceeded to at least get a few more hours of sleep. But that didn't stop the nightmares from happening. For the next few months. No matter how or when I went to bed, those nightmares just followed me. Not to mention I never saw Granger except just in passing. She had apparently begged all the teachers for a seat exchange with the farthest person from me. No matter what I said, what snide comments or remarks I made, she wouldn't respond. She wouldn't make eye-contact, wouldn't speak around me. Acted as though I no longer existed. And I hated that. I didn't realize just how much her avoidance was affecting my mood until Pansy caught me staring at her during breakfast and nearly flipped out.

During the break between fifth and sixth year, I tried my best to forget the entire thing. My father started pressuring me more and more to do as Voldermort wished. He said that the more I made the Dark Lord happy, the more I made him proud. An opportunity to make my father finally proud to have me as a son? I would never have admit it, but I had been longing for that for a very long time. So of course I listened, and did as I was told. It provided me the opportunity to push the thoughts of Granger to the very back of my mind. The nightmares had even stopped. It wasn't that I had much of a choice, anyways. If I didn't do as he wished, there was the safety of my family and myself at stake. But no pressure, right?

Everyone knows what happened during the sixth year, my assignment to kill Dumbledore that I never really carried out. My mother made Snape make an unbreakable vow to protect me. I don't know what would have done if she hadn't done that. She has been the only person I've ever known to really care about me. I owe her everything.  
I've heard people say that I didn't kill him because I wasn't evil enough, that I was too good, that I was better than a murderer. Slytherin girls think I'm some sort of hero, guys think I'm cool, that Snape just interrupted me. I find it funny, because I'm not one of those things. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed that attention that had gotten me, but you kinda feel like a fraud when you know the truth. The only reason I didn't kill him when I could have was because I was a coward. I was afraid of actually killing someone, not that I'm saying I regret not killing him. To this day, I don't think I could actually kill someone, and I'm glad I didn't kill Dumbledore. I'm just tired of people thinking highly of a decision I made that wasn't for that sake of anyone else but myself.

It wasn't until after the war, after Hogwarts, that those memories came back. Long after Potter had not only saved my life once, but three times. Long after he married the Weaselette, and her brother married Granger. 19 years later, if you want to be specific. Within that time, a lot of things changed. With Malfoy Manor all but destroyed during the war, my parents left the house afterwards and went to spend the rest of their lives in Muggle Italy. I stayed behind, knowing that I could never fit in anywhere else but here. No matter what anyone said, Malfoy Manor was my home. I couldn't just leave it in ruins. So, after months of labor, I fixed the house up, almost to it's former glory. Being the son of Lucius Malfoy, and spending most of my childhood making others do work for me, many people wouldn't expect me to be 'capable' of actual hard work. And I took pride in my work. I never really wanted to be like my father, what child wants to? So if a little construction work proved I wasn't like him, so be it.

I didn't want to settle down quite yet. I spent a year traveling, visiting places like China, India, and the Americas. My father always wanted me to work for Malfoy Enterprises, but I just didn't feel like it was for me. So, I began working for the Ministry of Magic. Not very surprisingly, so did a lot of other people from Hogwarts. Goyle, to my astonishment, work for the Department of Magical Education, along with Zabini and Chang. I, however, found my job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I just couldn't help it, my childhood love of Quidditch just called out to me. When the job as the Representative of the department presented itself to me, I felt like I had just won the lottery. A decent salary, with holidays off, 3 weeks vacation, and sick days was very nice. Plus, as an added bonus, I get free tickets to every Quidditch world cup. How could I say no?

But after a bit, I decided that I did want to start a family of my own, my own Malfoy legacy. I went out on what felt like a hundred dates, but they never went past the first date. All the women were the same. High society, peroxide blonde, freshly manicured nails-type women who studied your clothing brands and watches more often than your own eyes. It got very tiring, it seemed those were the only type of women that I could attract. Then suddenly, after a few years, I met up with Astoria Greengrass. I had always thought she was pretty, so we went on a date. And for the first time in a while, I saw someone who wasn't looking at my money, but me. After a year, we got married, and then eleven months later Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born. My son became the light of my life, and I love him so much.  
I really wouldn't call it love that I felt for her, not to say I didn't care for her. She was two years younger than me, sister to my friend Daphne, and she was considerably attractive. We made sense to be together. And, not that it really mattered to me anymore, but I knew my father was happy that I married a pureblood. I have no doubt that her feelings for me were true. And I did feel compassion for her, just not in the romantic sort of way.  
The day Scorpious went to Hogwarts for his first year was terrifying. I'm sure any parent can relate to the feeling of sending their children away for the first day of school, especially boarding school. You get that irrational fear, in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind. The fear that it may be the last time you hold your child, or hear their voice. Even with Voldemort gone, evil people exsisted, muggle and wizarding worlds alike.  
Astoria and I were walking behind Scorpius, with his brand new owl in his cage, and wand in his pocket, along the familiar Platform 9 3/4. I noticed Astoria was holding back tears in her eyes, so I placed my arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. She looked at me, and gave me a reassuring smile to tell me she was okay. I removed my arm from her waist to help Scorpious pack his luggage onto the train. When he was finished, I place my hands on his shoulders and got his attention.

"Scorpious Hyperion Malfoy," I began, to which I was rewarded with a groan from my son. I knew it annoyed him when I called him by his full name, but this time I was being serious. I looked at him with seriousness in my eyes, but eventually couldn't hold the straight face and hugged him to me.  
"I just wanted to let you know that your mother and I are so proud, and we love you." I whispered to him, and he hugged me tighter. "I know." he said. After a minute, I let go of him, just in time for Astoria to sweep him up into her arms and finally let go of those tears. Smiling to myself, I glanced to my right for a moment.  
And that's when I saw her. Granger. Well, I guess she's a Weasley now, but she'll always be Granger to me. She, with Potter, Weasley and Weaslette. Or, maybe technically, Potterette, but you get my point. Potter happened to glance back at me, and nodded at me. I nodded in response, and saw Granger staring at me as well. And it was as if 5th year never happened, and that spark was in her eyes again. And that was the moment I finally realized what it was. Hope. Hope for good, for change. All this time, all those years of relentless bullying, yet she had hope for me. I was so astonished by this revelation that I didn't even notice Weasley's remark to his daughter about me, or Granger slapping him jokingly in response. Her eyes met mine again, and I couldn't help smiling. And she smiled back at me. I didn't know whether it was out of politeness, or if she was truly happy to see me. But at that moment, I would take what I could get. I really didn't understand what it was, but getting her to smile at me, for the first time, caused all my previous guilt I didn't realize I was carrying over the years to vanish. Or, at least, for the moment, I could pretend I was forgiven for my wrong doings. Definately, I wanted to make sure to get ahold of her and apologize in person. But for the moment, I felt better.

**Author's note: Thanks for reading this! I've been wanting to post this for a very long time, something of Dramione but what I felt was a little more realistic to their characters. Please review and tell me what you think, this is my first story. All types of criticism are appreciated. :)


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